


A Stranger

by MommaUrsa



Category: Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommaUrsa/pseuds/MommaUrsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was not the first time that Dick had used that particular pit, but he had hoped it would be the last time he would ever be brought to a point in his life where it was the only answer. He could still remember the Bruce replica’s body lurching out of the bubbling pit, hissing nonsense and moving in a way that was both familiar and foreign. </p><p>The memory of Kate bursting out of the bubbling, yellow liquid, gasping for air as she returned from death was at the forefront of his mind. The image of her after she returned, with her red hair damp with the reviving liquid and her expression lively behind the mask, haunted him. She had not been insane, not like the Bruce replica, so he had expected the same results for Damian.</p><p>He had been so very wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stranger

            “Grayson,” Damian snarled from behind the man. Dick perked up from his sprawled position on the mats. His brow rose to question the child that was silently stepping toward him, only to be fixed with one of  _those_  looks. “You promised to help me on the bars.”

            There was something off about the child, but Dick wasn’t quite sure what it was. He felt like he should make the teenager avoid using the bars at all cost, but this was  _Damian_. The son of Batman was not going to just stay away from training because Dick was going into his protective older brother mode.

            He grinned at his little brother as he got up from the ground. “Sure thing,” he chirped. He moved to ruffle Damian’s hair, but decided against it. He simply walked past the boy, and over to where the workout bars were. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

            “Where did we leave off before…” His voice trailed off as he tried to think back to the last time they trained. “Before,” he repeated.

            “Tt. I was trying to reach the highest one without using the middle bars,” Damian interjected with a huff. He stepped to his usual starting position before glancing over at his mentor. “I  _can_  reach it,” he quickly added.

            Dick chuckled before nodding. “You can reach it. Remember to get a good running start, and that timing is everything.” He eyed the teenager for a moment. “Show me what you can do, baby bat.”

            Damian smirked, and then took off running. His eyes narrowed as he jumped out and grabbed onto the first bar. He let his body flip around it a few times before releasing it, sending his body over the next two bars, and toward the fourth one. He reached out to latch on, but his fingers just barely brushed the bar. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second as he fell to the mats below.

            Dick was quick to race to his side. Damian’s body was in a mangled heap on the ground, his cape tattered and bloodied. Something was wrong, so, so wrong, but all that Dick could process was that his baby brother was hurt. It didn’t occur to him just how wrong the scene was until he was on the ground, trying to push the body over, only for his hand to go through the form and touch the soft mat.

            His eyes widened as Damian’s body began to vanish, leaving him alone in the room, tears running down his cheeks. His body shuddered with this sobs. He curled his fingers, trying to grip the empty space in hopes that he could hold onto the vanishing form.

            This wasn’t the first time this had happened. He was tired of the visions of his baby brother plaguing him.

—

            It was not the first time that Dick had used that particular pit, but he had hoped it would be the last time he would ever be brought to a point in his life where it was the only answer. He could still remember the Bruce replica’s body lurching out of the bubbling pit, hissing nonsense and moving in a way that was both familiar and foreign.

           The memory of Kate bursting out of the bubbling, yellow liquid, gasping for air as she returned from death was at the forefront of his mind. The image of her after she returned, with her red hair damp with the reviving liquid and her expression lively behind the mask, haunted him. She had not been insane, not like the Bruce replica, so he had expected the same results for Damian.

            He had been so very wrong.

            Any temporary madness of the pit should have worn off by now. Dick had been praying for the end of all  _this_ , but each day was rewarded with nothing but heartbreak. This was not the boy he had helped raise, the boy he had helped mold into the courageous, heroic young man who had died protecting everything they believed in; the young man who died protecting him.

            However, he was hopeful. Every morning he would wake up holding his breath. He shrugged the child’s behavior off as being a side effect of the nightmares that he knew Damian was suffering from, if the shrieks throughout the night were any indication of such night terrors. Dick was not blind to the bags beneath the child’s narrowed eyes, or the sliver of fear that was visible behind the malevolence.

            Dick swallowed as he entered the hallway, just as he did every other morning. He had not noticed himself holding his breath until he felt his throat burning and his chest constricting with the need for new oxygen. The smile that stretched his cheeks was obviously forced. His eyes held no joy, instead reflecting how each day passing day was slowly shattering him. The pieces were beginning to become harder to pick up and fit together each time he was broken. Giving up was slowly becoming the more appealing option.

            “Hey, little D,” Dick greeted as he knocked on the door to the study. He slowly pushed the door open and was instantly greeted with the stench of blood. His brow furrowed, and his smile quickly disappeared as he lunged into the room.

            The child was on the ground in front of the dog. Crimson stained Damian’s dark clothes and painted the silver blade of the knife in his hand. Red dripped down the sleek sides, dropping from the pointed tip only to collect in the dark pool of blood staining the light carpet.

            Dick’s heart had stopped as he stared at the scene. Titus was not moving, and the further he moved into the room, the more he could see the long laceration running up the dog’s stomach, allowing organs to spill onto the carpet.

            “Damian- God, what did you do?” Dick’s voice had cracked. He put a hand over his mouth as he stared down at the scene. He had witnessed much more than any one person should have been exposed to, but  _this_  was more than he could handle. This was not some stranger and a stray dog, but a boy and his beloved pet. Damian had killed the one thing that meant the world to him.

            Dick felt himself shatter again, this time into pieces too small to patch up. The shards were gone, and there was no longer hope that his Damian would return. He tried not to think of the child as a monster, but that’s what he had become. The pit had turned his little shit head into a malevolent creature. He had no idea how to handle him before, but now there was no emotion. The child was a shell of his former self, one filled with rage and contempt.

            Damian slowly twisted his body until he was facing Dick. His blue eyes, speckled green from his revival, did not reflect any guilt. They were cold, calculating, and narrowed into a look that made Dick take a step back. It appeared as if the child was about to lash out as his previous mentor with the bloodied knife, but Damian quickly turned to return his gaze to the corpse of his loyal dog.

            Dick knew bringing the child back was a mistake. He knew that his Damian was never going to return to him, and all he had was the malevolent creature spit out from the pit.


End file.
